Metal theory
by Crimson Falcons
Summary: Drabble series/ 03. Because they- her and him- they were not like the others to begin with. Sakura and Sasuke, Sasuke and Sakura- star crossed lovers, Ino had called them. She thinks she's beginning to believe that.
1. Iridium

.Iridium.

Summary: Somehow their meaningless conversations aren't so meaningless as she thought they were.

* * *

She took a long, deep breath, taking in the scent of freshly washed pine and wet dirt. The wind hummed about her softly, making her locks kiss her cheeks. Occasionally, she would open her forest green eyes to drink in the darkness around her; the stars were hidden behind angry grey clouds that rumbled every five seconds and a flash of bright yellow light would strike the earth. At those moments, her retinas would explode with colours till her vision showed her nothing but white spots and then it would go back to being dark again. The ordeal made her slightly dizzy, and she would tap her forehead lightly, making the pain dissipate.

The wet grass tickled her exposed palms and wrists, the dew latching itself to her like a second skin till it tipped off her fingers, back to the foliage. She traced a particular drop down her elbow, to the front of her hand till the tips of her fingers, and watched as it drew itself to a tear-drop shape and-

_Splash_

It was lost among the countess dozens of small green blades.

"_Hey_," she whispered, her breath floating before her like white mist.

Sasuke gave a small nod in greeting and sat himself beside her, extending his arms behind him as he propelled his weight and stared at the grey sky above. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, before bringing her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, placing her head on her knees.

"It's going to rain," Sasuke's deep voice made her turn her head to him and she watched him before humming in response. A raindrop fell on her button nose and she crinkled it slightly in irritation.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think I'm missing Naruto," her voice was soft and reminiscing, but he could sense the slight undertone of humour there, "and that loud mouth of his."

She smiled lightly when she heard him scoff in amusement.

"He's not someone you can forget easily," he said, and even though it was dark and his eyes were closed, she could have sworn she saw his lips upturned a bit.

Silence flooded them while they listened to the soft howl of the wind.

"I envy him sometimes," she began, eyes glazed as she concentrated on some far object. "He doesn't let his failure put him down." She paused, fiddling with her fingers as she thought out loud, "It's a remarkable trait."

Bringing her jacket closer to her hunched form, she smiled.

"I wish I could do that."

A short tune played out, a scorching sound followed by a soft _slip_ and a small blue flame to her left later-

"What's holding you back," he whispered, a cigarette plopped inside his mouth, eyes focused on the tiny red flame on its end. She stared at him for a while, studying his features till he felt her gaze and glanced at her.

"Nothing," she whispered back, blinking slowly, "and everything."

He took the bar out of his mouth, securing it between two fingers, and blew out the smoke. They both watched it mix with cold atmosphere.

"Does that even make sense, Sasuke?"

He didn't answer, and she didn't mind.

"I just want to live," she started again, her gaze falling on the barely visible stars and she puffed out slowly, "without the fear of my past holding me back."

She heard him sigh softly and she could already picture what was going to happen next.

"Sakura," he finally looked at her.

"Sasuke," she replied in the same tone, craning her neck slowly to face him. And suddenly, she felt like smiling.

"It's over." He replied levelly, ignoring the way her eyes sparkled with moisture.

"That's what everyone says," she shot back at him, grinning softly.

He still stared at her, a serious expression planted on his features while she hid her face under her arms.

"Stop that," she whispered softly, "please."

He decided to humour her, "Stop what, Sakura?"

She looked at him from under her barrier and pointed a slender finger at his face, in between his eyes.

"That. Stop _that."_

He shrugged lightly, closing his eyes while he propped the cigarette in between his lips again, working it to the end of his mouth like an expert would. A fucking perfectionist. His eyes opened again to the grey sky above.

"You're holding yourself back, Sakura." His voice reached her ears like a low hum. "Not your past."

She stared down the small hill, counting the small little dots of the traffic before they merged with the air.

"_Liar."_

He glanced at her again but then resumed watching the earth getting swallowed by the silent _pitter patter_ of the rain

.

.

.

"Sometimes," she began softly, twisting her fingers in front of her face, "Sometimes I think that I hate this city."

Her pupils dilated as she spoke, elbows perched on the soggy ground below as she balances her weight on them. Green irises bright and just so _different_ from the grey sky she's under.

"I hate the lights, the noise, the smoke," she paused, blinking rapidly as she cleared her eyes again."And the sky, especially. It's just always so_ damn gray_."

Sasuke blows the smoke and watched it diffuse in the wet atmosphere.

"Don't you _hate_ it, Sasuke?" she inquired, turning her big green eyes in his direction as she waited for an answer. He shrugs, but doesn't say.

.

.

.

With her legs sprawled out in front of her, she laid on the wet ground with her neck nestled between her threaded fingers, elbows barely touching the green moist grass. The jacket she wore was getting dirty-_brown always did look prominent against black-_but she ignored it, instead opting to close her eyes and fill her lungs with the smell of damp dirt.

"You know," she squeezes the breath out of her lungs as she whispers, turning her face to look at him, "that _thing_ will kill you one day."

He glanced at her, staring her down from the corner of her eye like a ruthless killer but she manages to hold her chin high. The cancer stick is still there between his lips, painting them a soft black hue while he takes a slow drag at them before blowing the smoke towards the sky.

He shrugged a minute later, disregarding her comment like all the other things she says, and carries on while she stares at him with irritated eyes.

"Why are _you_ eager to die?" She couldn't help but make it sound accusing.

He doesn't even look at her this time, never sparing a glance to her side while she burns her mind for what was going inside of his. Anxiety grips her shoulders with a vice grip, choking her, making it harder to breathe.

He blows another ring to the sky. "I've got nothing to lose."

She scoffs at his answer, rolling her eyes at the vague explanation but her heart betrays her because she knows what he means, she always knew.

Thunder rumbles overhead furiously and they listen to it strike down at an awaiting earth.

.

.

.

"It's raining."

His voice was shadowed by the thunder that growled. Lightning flashed down from the heavens, booming in the atmosphere, leaving the air electrified. She blinked the rain drops from her eyes and looked at the sky above. Colours burst behind her eyes, blinding her till black tears appeared to erase the white light away.

Sasuke pushed himself off the ground beside her, discarding the cigarette form between his lips and stubbing the end under his sneakers. Threading a hand through his slightly wet hair, he glanced at the city lights below while she stared up at him questioningly.

"You're leaving?" her voice was barely a whisper in the air.

He shook his head slightly, pulling her up suddenly by her elbows. She scrunched her eyebrows in confusion but allowed him to yank her up, blatantly ignoring the sparks that exploded on her exposed arms where he held her. The close proximity made her slightly uncomfortable but Sasuke's face betrayed nothing of what he could have been feeling inside.

"No," his breath floated on her lips, leaving tingles, sending the strong scent of pine and tobacco up her nose and into her lungs, "we're leaving."

She drew a shaky breathe and followed him down the moss ridden path.

.

.

.

"Do you ever," she began, eyes trained on her numb fingers, "have this urge to just pack up and leave this place for good?"

Craning her neck, she looked back at Sasuke. He had pushed his hands in his pockets as he made his way down the hill, sure footed and confident, so unlike her hesitant steps. The blinking lights of the moving traffic and lightning reflected on the whites of his eyes, so clear and translucent that she had to force her eyes to look away.

He flicked his hair from his eyes and clicked his tongue when he turned to look at the grey highway and the cars and the dots of lights. She glanced back at him from the corner of her eyes, wondering, thinking, speculating how one human could be so perfect that his every move, every twist is graceful. To the rest of the world, he was the Uchiha survivor, last of his kind, Greek God perfectionist, but in her eyes, his very imperfections were what made him so damn perfect and that made her angry sometime, because how is it fair that someone as fucked up as him still be so, so flawless.

She frowned at her selfish thoughts-_is this what you've come to Haruno Sakura, you're making jibes at your best friend, your only friend_-and instinctively, her hand fisted themselves again and tears of frustration welled up in her eyes.

"It's not fair," she bit out and the metallic taste of copper exploded in her mouth, "not fair, damn it!"

She could feel his eyes at the back of her skull, all black and deep and oh so honest, but the tumult inside her head, her mind and her soul due to her raging emotions and toxic hormones and venomous memories makes her want to scream till her throat aches and burns and she can't scream no more. This city, this _fucking_ metropolis, with its grey skies and glass sky scrapers and crime rates and businessmen and senators and serial killers had destroyed them all and she wanted nothing more to burn it all down and watch it turn to ash and gravel and dust and hear it shriek in agony. Because living here was like breathing on fumes and surviving on shredded glass and no one cared for anyone but themselves. She hated it, despised it and wanted nothing to do with it.

"Sometime," Sasuke's voice resounded from where he was his, soft and delicate and cautious and she blinked furiously to prevent the tears from falling. "Sometimes, I wish it were that easy, for you, for me."

.

.

.

She kept her eyes on her feet, counting the pebbles on the wet ground, fisting her hands inside her pockets. The cars on the highway continued to speed ahead, their tail lights flickering across the wet horizon like a blur. She huffed.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

Her nose crinkled when a stray raindrop splashed on her numb nose.

Besides her, she felt Sasuke shrug his shoulders. Another cigarette was rolling between his lips, the white cover almost invisible against his alabaster skin. This one wasn't lit though; he was just pushing it from one end of his mouth to the other like bubblegum.

She flicked a piece of hair from her forehead and twirled it in her fingers before pushing it behind her ear. The silver stud in her ear lobe felt as cold as ice against her fingertips.

"You know," she tried to match his lazy steps with her own, but it seemed near impossible when his stride was so large and she had to nearly jog to keep up, "I haven't been to the observatory in a while. Have you?"

He looked down at her, amusement dancing in his orbs. She grinned at him through her lashes.

"Whaaat?" her tone brimmed with laughter. He shook his head.

"Let's go."

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.

.

The docks were silent when he passed them on his way home. He paused and looked at the dark horizon where the water merged with the midnight sky, wondering what made him stop.

A cigarette lay propped by the corner of his mouth, its red end a beacon to lost memories in the bleak blackness that surrounded him. He squinted his eyes and tried to look past the silent water, past the wooden deck and the voices inside his head that were telling him to turn and move and never look back. But he realised for the first time in many years that he was achingly tired of running away.

The emerging sun glared at him. Hands in his leather jacket, he watched as the darkness bled way to dawn, and the water reflected the light like a thousand diamonds sparking in glee. Looking back at the docks again, he didn't see anything; there was nothing left to see anyway.

The sun was high in the sky now. His phone vibrated in his jeans; he had class in four hours.

.

.

.

She sees him standing outside the science building, mouth devoid of the ever present cigarette he always has propped by the corner of his lips. The early morning light makes him glow, and she feels her heart skip a beat when he opens his eyes and looks at her through his utterly black lashes.

"What are you doing here?" she breathes out, eyebrows furrowing to back her question.

He doesn't respond (not that she's surprised) but continues to stare at her face, eyes as dark as the midnight sky. His silence makes her feels somewhat awkward, so she asks again.

"Sasuke, what gi-"

Her breath hitches. The hand at the back of her neck softens and he pulls her in, closer to his eternal warmth and light. The pressure on her lips fades as he opens his eyes and looks at her.

"You talk too much," his breath hovers over her mouth, a mixture of mint and smoke. She loves it, and when he brings his face down again, she closes her eyes and meets him there halfway. And then she explodes.

.

.

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A.N: First ever thing I uploaded here. Do drop a comment to tell me if you liked it.


	2. Uranium

Uranium

* * *

His sword is in her hands and she stands, back composed, jaw rigid, eyes burning with resolve. Behind her, Sasuke is lying on the ground, screaming amid the nightmare he has been trapped in. She glances back at him from the corner of her eye, and for a second she feels anger course through her veins again, clouding her unbiased judgement. So she runs, mouth contorted in a loud battle cry as she fights, swinging the blades with such expertise that it scares her.

Her enemy is dead but she's not satisfied, not when Naruto is raging havoc, destroying everything in his path like mad dog. He has lost control again, and she wonders, both swords dangling in her hands, how they will stop him now. Her mind screams at her to stand but her bones rebel, crying in agony. She staggers as fast as she can, arms reaching out to save him, to help him get back to his feet,_ anything_ to help him stop hurting.

But she falls, drained of energy, eyes tired.

She doesn't realise their presence till a hand is placed on her shoulder, squeezing assurances into her. She glances back and sees Kushina-san smiling at her lightly, but her sky blue eyes are contorted in pain for her son, the one who has carried such a large burden his entire life. It's a wordless action, but they speak thousands of words to each other in less than ten seconds through their eyes.

So she places her small hand on that of the older woman, silently beckoning her_ to go and save her son _because she can and she will handle things here.

Kushina nods at her once in gratitude and disappears.

Left alone with nothing but a silent resolve and a bleeding teammate, she pops a soldier pill in her mouth and prepares for what she is going to do next.

* * *

He sees himself doing things he cannot understand.

His actions are uncomprehending, and even though he is looking at the blazing plain with such sharp clarity with his own eyes, he feels as though he has no control over his own body. His hands work fast themselves, formulating the signs for the techniques he didn't know when he had learned. But these people are attacking him, and he's fighting them on his own, even when he feels like screaming to tell them that_ he is not their enemy damnit so why are they attacking him?_

And that is when he sees her.

She's wearing nothing but a black flimsy shirt and a pair of equally dark shorts and her jonin jackets is hanging off her shoulders but just barely. Her hair is as pink as he remembers them to be and the strands as sharp as they should be, and he's glad to finally see her because now she can tell those people to stop. He opens his mouth and talks, but no words reach his ears. It makes him feel strange and he tries again, but to his utmost horror, nothing comes out.

She emerges from behind the rocks, using her momentum to pluck the boulder and smashes them over her enemies, twisting her body in such a way that she looks like a lethal weapon. Her jade eyes are livid, burning with something akin to determination and pride while she fights off people twice her size and he's begging her to hear him because he _can't!_

She clutches onto someone and propels her body to throw him, moving her herself a clockwise angle of one-eighty degrees and meets his eyes. He sees her blink in confusion, but then her face contorts to that of surprise and then dissolves into something between anger and terror. He doesn't understand why she seethes or why her hands are shaking and, most importantly, why she bites out his name like it's a curse.

And even though she has multiple cuts adorning her body and the shirt she sports is slashed in many places and her gloves are torn in various sites, she has never looked more beautiful to him. Her body is flying towards him now, arm pulled back as she prepares herself to attack him and he watches, horrified, as his hands pull out the kusanagi caked in blood and grime and dirt and fight her with a clear intent to kill.

And it scares him because he can't stop himself from hurting her like this.

* * *

Her arms are shaking and her muscles crying in pain.

They hurt, but she ignores the pain.

Hands bleed green and she starts again, cautiously, pumping chakra into her fallen comrade. She doesn't know how long she's sat there, arms extended, chakra pouring life back to someone who deserves to live. Her blood mingles with that of his, crimson dye glowing against alabaster skin and his heartbeat is beginning to slow down and_ why is he not awake yet_?

_Wake up, damnit!_

Perspiration gathers on her forehead, trails down her face and onto her hands, the hands which_ will_ bring him back to life_ because he cannot die on her, not yet_. His face scrunches up in pain and she falters slightly, panicking for a second there, but when he relaxes, she begins again, pouring her life and soul in her hands just to revive him again so she can punch him in the face for making her worry.

But for the love of her, he still hasn't opened his eyes yet.

_Wake up!_

* * *

She's throwing in punches that could easily render him physically impaired for life, barely giving herself a moment to rest before bringing an onslaught of uppercuts and chakra infused kicks that manage to create earth quakes. He screams inside the black hallow of his consciousness, cursing himself to eternity and begging his body to stop because _how will he live with himself if he kills her!_

But his body never responds, instead it manoeuvres itself almost gracefully to dodge her fists and feet like as if he knew where she was going to hit next. His eyes torture him endlessly, making him view every single detail with such stark clarity that he wants to tear at his face and claw at his arms. His yelling is incessant and it bounces back to him, crashing at his mentality, making him choke on his own spit each time his blade lands somewhere close to her form. And while he's shouting at himself to stop, he can't help but admire the way she glides around his counter attacks; she's almost as fast as he is, her body is brandished to perfection around each move he makes. And it's almost sick, he notes, how their bodies move in sync with each other, like a deadly performance they have learned by heart, one that their bodies are now portraying while they both see themselves from behind their eyes and from the balcony of their minds.

_Stop this! _

The mental torture has rendered him to a weak pathetic pile on the floor, one that holding its head and clutching his hair in hopeless despair. And he realises at that moment of desperation, no matter how many times he denies it, he's in love with her.

* * *

Her chakra dissipates, disappearing from under her fingertips and nearly making her lose her mind. Her reserves are dangerously low but she had long thrown logic and caution out the window the moment she saw his face contorted in despair. She presses her fingers to her eyelids, soaking the moisture there while a choked sob of helplessness escapes her lips. The green light is gone now, replaced by the steady electrifying hum that's numbing her tired arms.

She lets her exhausted form land ungracefully on the ground behind her, allowing her tears to leak free from behind their barriers because he _still hasn't woken up._

_WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!_

_PLEASE!_

Her cries fill the rugged landscape, bouncing back at her own ears but she doesn't care. She's awake and clutching his bloodied shirt and punching his chest in despair, begging him to open his eyes. Her vision spots her medic bag by the end of the crater and she runs to it, staggering like a man who has been deprived of water for a week, and pulls it open, throwing three soldier pills in her mouth, swallowing them instantly and then crying in relief when the green light sparks under her fingers again.

Her hands place themselves on his torso, pumping her lifeline in him in another attempt to revive him before his heart beat dies on her again.

* * *

There's a moment of utmost silence, a period of imperishable vacuum where no sound dares to intrude till his ears detect the effective sound of metal tearing through flesh.

His body gives him no sudden warning and the event's aftermath leaves him watching her with wide frightened eyes as his breath stops. The sickening crunch of the sword piercing through tissue and skin echoes throughout the valley, screams in his ears and he simply watches, beyond surprised and horrified and confused to do anything but stare at the sin he has committed, of the blood he has splattered _on his own fucking hands._

Her eyes widen by a small fraction but just then, they return to their previous width, focusing on an imaginary point beyond his shoulder. His hands hesitate for a second, like as if they're unsure of what is done, but the moments she stares down at him from under her thick long lashes, he suddenly seems to understand.

In the very end, he was her downfall. And the unsurprised look on her face tells him that she knew that all along.

Green eyes lock with his own obsidian ones, the brightness in them vanishing as seconds tick by. Everything seems to be in a standstill, like someone suddenly hit the pause button, and everything around them is a soft, slow blur, except perhaps for the unwanted swoosh of air that's rushing past his ears, rustling his hair and blowing in her face.

The first drop of her warm blood feels like scalding iron on his skin and he screams, even when he knows no one but he can hear them; the sound is ear-splitting, filled with unsurpassed agony and he wants nothing more than to tear his skin off _because how the hell could he do that to her?_

Crimson blood tickles down her lips and trembles on her chin like raindrops clinging to rooftops. She gives a silent cough, short and brief, and the action splatters the thick, red liquid on his forehead, mixing with his own blood as it trails down his eyes. The hands which were previously fisted in an iron grip on his shoulders loosen and he lowers her down till her feet can touch the ground. The sword, he notices even when he does not want to, is still embedded inside her stomach, protruding out the other side at a clear angle and he can practically hear her life force drip down on the earth, one drop after the other.

Her face is not confronted in pain and horror as he expected it to be; rather he finds it calm and still like as if she had seen this coming from a mile away. Her eyes stare at his bare chest, her gaze levelled as her skin loses its radiance of life. The expected hollow of death appears on her cheeks and she finally looks up at him, for the last time, before her chest stops heaving for breath. The blank look is replaced by the silent accusation which always seemed to be lurking there in the shadow of her eyes, like a ghost skirting the halls of an old castle. It's quiet, invisible but _there_.

He feels himself pull the blade out of her and his hands catch her before she falls on the undeserving earth. The sight of her lifeless eyes staring at him is eerie, it probes down his very soul and taunts him with a sick smile saying_ look at what you did Sasuke-kun, look at what you did to me._

So he watches, hands clutched in her short pastel hair as he somehow brings his face to rest in the short juncture between her neck and shoulder and takes a deep breath of her scent while cradling her head in his bloodied palm.

His tear smeared face contorts in an ironic smile when he sees one stray drop fall down his cheek and land on her lashes while the world around them continues its path down destruction.

The red sky above bleeds for her as the moon mourns at the unjust fate carried out by his hands.

* * *

She chokes on her tears, beyond the stage of actually caring if anyone sees her like this, red-eyed and weak and desperate because nothing else matter now, now that his pulse is getting weaker and he's losing too much blood too fast and there's nothing she can do than _beg _and _plead_ _and pray _that he cracks his eyes open and smirks at her so that she can hit him again and again. Under her palms, his heart gives a sudden lurch and her own heart follows and she forgets to blink, forgets to_ breathe_ when he slowly opens his eyes, peaking at her from under his thick, dark lashes, pupils disoriented and hazy. She forces herself to inhale when his eyes land on her and she prods his cheek softly just to convince herself that he's alive, awake and _not dead._

A watery laugh escapes her chapped lips and she wonders what Sasuke might think of her now, wet nosed and raw fingertips and dirt smeared cheeks. She falls back and this time the green light on her hands dissipates for good and for once, she doesn't care that she's out of chakra even in enemy terrain; it seems as though every survival instinct drilled in her head since her hand first grasped a kunai ran out the window hours ago-or was it minutes?-when he had suddenly gone down.

She looks up at the sky, notices the clouds for the first time and closes her eyes when the first drop lands on her face and mixes with her tears and blood. Her ears pick up the faint roars of the nine-tailed fox and her nose prickles when the smell of burnt wood and foliage teases her senses.

"Sakura?" she hears Sasuke choke out and she peers at him from behind her dishevelled hair, twisting her face to look at him. For a second, neither one breath or blink, afraid that it might shatter whatever it is that's happening between the two of them and Sakura wonders, almost absentmindedly, how pale and rugged Sasuke looks with all the dirt and grime and blood on him and-

The collision nearly knocks the breath out of her lungs and for a moment, she thinks that the darkness poking at the corners of her vision might overpower her but all notions skid to a halt when something moist lands on her neck. Sasuke's arms tighten around her, his forehead resting against the juncture of her neck and shoulders and he's shaking and choking and wheezing and she's confused.

He pulls back suddenly, hands fisted on the ends of her shoulders and she's blown away by the agony engraved in his features when he stares at her with his wild crimson eyes that are full of _(pain, guilt, hurt, horror, anguish?_)-

"I will never hurt you," she feels him force the word out his mouth and she doesn't know how to answer to that when he's looking at her like as if it physically pains to make the words out. "I will _never ever_ hurt you. You know that, don't know?" he finishes pleadingly, shaking her softly to emphasize his point and she finds herself looking at him, all dazed and confused and perplexed because she can't hear her own heart lulling down to a soft whisper over the sound of his chaotic own. The warmth of his skin burns the pad of her palm, soft and scorching, but it's proof. Proof that he's awake and that she's not dreaming.

So she places her hand at the base of his skull and curls her fingers in the dusty black hair and says, "I know."

The darkness consumes her faster than she can even blink.

* * *

Kakashi leans against a moss-covered tree and watches.

"I saw myself killing her."

Sasuke pauses in his movements, and suddenly wants to snatch the words right out of the air. Kakashi stands silent, and waits for him to continues but when Sasuke clenches his fists and drives them straight at a tree and bruises his knuckles so bad that the blood refuses to stop, he pulls out his orange book and jumps on a higher branch.

"She's awake." Looking back, he adds. "You should go see her."

It takes Sasuke six hours to convince himself to drag his feet in the direction of the hospital.

* * *

Sloppy ending. Sorry.


	3. Platinum

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, or any of its characters.**_

* * *

_**Platinum soul**_

-_Because she will never know and he will never tell._

* * *

"I hate you."

Itachi knows that children say that all the time, in fit: _I hate you, I hate you! _Eyes squeezed with tears. But Sasuke is approaching twenty-three, and his delivery is flat.

He has some idea as to what he is supposed to say back: _Now, I know you don't mean that_, when he knows that he does. Or, _I love you either way, like it or not. _But he has inkling that it would follow the same pat scripts that had helped to land him in a garnish overheated room that smells like a bus toilet on an otherwise lovely, unusually clement December afternoon. So he says instead, in the same informational tone,

"I often hate you too, Sasuke,"

and watches him pull the trigger.

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.

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_one_

Sasuke is ten when she approaches him for the first time after _that _incident. To her, he seems like a boy too firm and too determined yet too _indifferent _for his age. His aloof profile scares her at times but she dispels the thought, gathers her wits and walks to her target, a smile plastered on her face.

"Good morning, Sasuke-san," her voice, she notes, is low and quiet since she knows that he dislikes loud people (like Ami and Karin) who latch themselves on his arms.

He glances at her from the corner of his eyes, his palm cradling his face as his elbows rest on the mahogany desk in front of him. She keeps her gaze leveled and refuses to look down under the gravity of his (_dark, mesmerizing, cold, calculating yet apathetic_) eyes and she dares not to exhales in fear that it might trigger something she will regret later on. But she is spared.

He looks away a moment later, turning his face back to the window where raindrops raced down the glass pane. And she finally lets the air out, glad that he did not scoff or glare or push her away. And it's okay, she convinces herself, because even if he is ignoring her and the memories of their childhood, that does not mean that those little moments never occurred. And she decides that she will cherish those moments they spent together while he was happy and whole and safe and _not the boy with a haunted past_ that he is now.

So she walks away, content with her (_tiny, minute but still there_) advancement, back to the middle of the class to her seat where she is surrounded by the people who she knows are her friends, and she laughs with them and gossips in whispers and her eyes twinkle in mirth.

But she doesn't know that Sasuke's ear twitch every time he hears the sound of her laughter.

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.

.

_two_

She has just turned eleven three days ago and is running late from school one day when she sees him in the soccer field. The rain has stopped pouring but occasionally a few drops manage to land on the crown of her head or her hand or on her nose. Grey clouds loom overhead, promising another shower and she worries that her books might get wet if she gets caught up in the rain. Her feet hurt and her legs are wobbly since she just finished volley ball practice where their coach threatened to kick them out of the team (again) if they failed to finish twenty laps around the gym in half an hour.

The rain falls down again, this time heavier than the last, and she curses her lucky stars for forgetting to bring her umbrella to school. She barely manages to cross the basketball court when the onslaught comes falling and she is forced to take cover under a tree near the boundary of the soccer field.

She leans her back against the moist trunk behind her but barely get the time to heave a sigh when-

"_Watch out!"_

a soccer ball engraves itself just above her head.

Her eyes are wide and she forgets how to breathe and faintly wonders what would have happened if the ball were to fly in a little lower and right into her face-

The mere thought makes her shudder.

The ball lands on her head a few minutes later and falls into her extended palms.

Through the rain she sees two figures approaching her, both wet to the bone and panting heavily.

"Sakura-chan! Are you alright?"

It doesn't take a miracle to recognize that voice.

"I'm fine, Naruto."

And she throws the ball at him which he catches almost instinctively (_damn his fast reflexes_)

She hears him sigh in relief and plans to ask why he's out here so late in the rain when she hears_ him_.

"Dobe, I want the ball."

Her ears twitch at the familiar yet smooth voice but she orders herself to keep her eyes set on Naruto. And she wonders why she pulls out a fake smile and excuses herself almost immediately just to run back into the rain and get her precious books ruined.

But the truth is that she feels betrayed. She knows she has no reason to because _just 'cause they three were together in their childhood doesn't mean that they are obliged to keep their friendship forever._ And now she realizes those two have progressed forward together, leaving her at the back to watch them disappear as she lags behind in some unreasonable race that she has set in her mind.

_It's because they're boys_, she argues with herself later that evening. _It's 'cause of that that they have a sort of connection between them when they fight and train and practice… _

But it still hurts her to think that Naruto has managed to form and maintain a link with Sasuke whereas she has failed to do miserably so. And she can't help but envy (_hate_) Naruto for that sometimes.

.

.

.

_Three_

It's the last week of their final year of middle school and everyone's worried about the upcoming exams. She gathers her notebooks and her pens from her desk when the bell rings and makes her way through the hallways with ease. Ino joins her moments later and they both walk to their lockers together.

She vaguely remembers Ino joking about something when they round a corner and she slams into something so hard that it hurts her nose and makes her loose her balance. Her books are already on the floor and she backs away slowly, her hand desperately searching for something that would stop the momentum with which she is falling but she manages to grab nothing but thin air.

Her mind has already come in terms with the pain she is about to receive and she seals her eyes shut. But the impact never comes

She dares a peak at her savoir and doesn't know if she should feel surprised or relieved or embarrassed.

Or all three.

Sasuke is looming above her, his (_warm, soft_) hands bound around her tiny wrists to keep her from falling. The moment is such a cliché, she thinks, the girl being saved by her childhood (crush) friend with whom she hasn't talked to ever since his family died and he became the (_cool, calm, aloof, distant)_ boy that he is now. And somehow, she feels a sudden spark course through her and her wrists seem to be burning around the area where his hands are enclosed.

"I-I'm sorry," she suddenly apologizes, but later she thinks, sorry for what, exactly?

"Hn."

He walks away and she, unconsciously, rubs the area where his hands had been a few minutes ago. Her eyes follow his profile as he moves in the corridors with one hand swallowed in his left pocket while the right one hold his books and binders.

He never once looks back when she leans to recover her books from the ground and silently walks to her locker.

Or so she thinks.

.

.

.

_Four_

It is the first day of high school, and she amused by the amount of energy everyone is showing, particularly the two blue eyed blondes she has come to love over the years; they are practically jumping in ecstasy, eyes wide and swallowing every little detail they both see. Sakura walks with both of them to the gym where the orientation will be held, smiling brightly at whoever approaches her.

They are later joined by a blushing Hinata and a sleepy looking Shikamaru. Naruto runs off again, Shikamaru trailing behind him begrudgingly and the girls are now left to their own musings.

"I can't believe we're finally here!" Ino squeals for the nth time this morning.

"You've already said that, countless times now," Sakura points out but Ino doesn't mind; she simply waves her hand dismissingly, saying that the excitement would still be there no matter how many times she repeats it. To this, Sakura just shakes her head.

"I wonder who else from our old school is here," Hinata's soft voice is wondering, and Sakura simply shrugs as an answer.

The orientation is over with quickly, and all the student are ushered to their new classrooms. Entering their home-room, Sakura is satisfied to know that all her friends are here with her. They take a seat by the left side of the room where they spot a few of their old classmates and slide in almost casually, melting with the loud crowds of Room 206.

And she's fairly happy, she believes, because she has Ino and Naruto and Hinata and Kiba and Shikamaru and-

The door swings open, disturbing the loud cheerfulness of the place. The noise levels down but then rises up again, as if the small piece of emptiness had never occurred. Her trained ears grasp the boisterous sound of Naruto's arguing and she turns around to call him over but the sight of him with a certain raven haired childhood friend renders her speechless. Her slightly elevated hand falls back in her lap, where it fumbles with the new shirt she brought from the mall yesterday. And suddenly, she feels as though her energy is gone, replaced by something dull and horrible brewing in the pits of her stomach that leaves her slightly nauseous in the aftermath. But he never looks at her, instead opting to sit a few tables ahead of her while his back is rigid and his arms tight while many of the other girls fawn over him.

So she ignores him and the feeling that's lodged in her throat, answers every question with such fluency and confidence she never knew existed within her and laughs and whispers like she is supposed to. It's a cheap move, she knows, and her inner self, the one which is honest and loud and too considerate of her self-respect even in front of her own eyes, argues with her blatantly, throwing in accusations and arguments which are bound to be the death of them both but she ignores her, ignores the honest mature part of her who is constantly yelling at her to stop being a coward and a fake.

She smiles through it all, takes the accusations because she knows that they are true, and misses the part when Uchiha Sasuke turns back to finally look at her.

.

.

.

_Five_

"You've been avoiding me."

Sakura nearly chokes on her own spit, snapping her eyes up to meet clear black ones. Her mouth is slightly parted in shock, eyes wide while her mind tries to come back to earth again.

"Wh-what?" is her only ingenious reply, one that leaves him glaring at her slightly as if he had said something wrong.

"I don't repeat myself, Sakura."

She blinks rapidly, inhales a large sum of oxygen and satisfies her burning lungs. She can see Naruto standing there behind his back, looking at him as if he had sprouted another head while Ino gazes at her with slight concern.

Shikamaru is the first one to overcome the silence, the first one who tried to lessen her sudden humiliation and burden. "Sas-"

But he doesn't let him continue.

She blinks and suddenly he has his back to her, effectively blocking out everyone from her line of sight. His shoulders are tense and rigid, his biceps taunt as he fists his hands and shakes in uncontrollable anger.

"_Leave."_

His voice leaves out no room for arguments, not that anyone would be foolish enough to deal with the volatile Uchiha. Already, more than half of the class had filtered out of the room in a hurry, leaving her with less chances of not having to confront him because even though she has been playing out this same scenario in her mind so many times, the time when it actually happens is when her brain decides to become unresponsive. It doesn't feel like she's witnessing this from her own eyes; instead, it seems as though she were watching a film unfold in front of her, it holding no physical connection her what so ever.

"But Sa-"

"I said _leave"_

She sends Ino a somewhat reassuring smile, indicating that she would be alright even though she knows she's lying. Her mind is responding again, making her painfully aware of her heart that's pounding in her ears like a huge drum. The adrenaline pulses through her veins, making her alert to all the things she wishes to ignore.

Her breath gets caught up in her throat when he turns to face her again, his own expression contorted into that of extreme anger and frustration; she wonders what triggered it, what made the mighty emotionless Uchiha snap like a string of beads.

The silence that follows is suffocating, crashing into her lungs, choking her and making it extremely harder to breathe now. He's still standing there, eyes close, breathing ragged, shoulders stiff.

"I-"

"Shut up. Just _shut up_."

She seals her lips under her teeth, bites on the inside of her cheeks till the pain is too much to handle. But to her, having a bullet lodged in her throat would be less painful than _this._ It's hard to determine what she will do next, what she _can _do next when he's standing there looking like _that_, and it scares her, makes her fingers tremble with the intensity of the pent up frustration they have built inside themselves for so long. The tension is so thick that it's strangling her and she wants smash the windows and let the air in again because she can't feel her lungs _damn it._

And suddenly she's angry: angry at him for thinking that he can walk up to her and declare something and then expect her to chew on it because _who the hell is he to be the judge of that?_

"_No_."

Her palms are pressed flat against the desk and she's glaring at him for all it's worth, trying to match his intimidating height and show that she is not someone he can toss around at will. He blinks back at her, and for a second she can swear she sees something flash in his eyes before it's gone again and he's being his usual stoic self again, hiding himself hidden behind the steel barriers he has built around himself for years. So she glares at him, her emerald irises sharp and cutting because now she's even more angry.

"Who the _fuck_ do you think you are Uchiha?"

His jaw tightens to the extent where she thinks the bone might smash against the pressure he's exerting there but right now, it's the least of their concerns, not when she's ready to punch him in the face and scream some sense back into him.

"You have no right,_ no freakin' right_, to march in here and say that I've been avoiding, not when you've been doing that yourself for the_ past six years," _the words end up like as a snarl emitting from her lips and Sasuke glowers at her.

He's staring her down but she's glaring right back, neither willing to back down or throw the towel in truce. It's a strange combination, them, she thinks in her mind, like hurricanes and fires, they dance and destroy and clash and burn but never prosper. Everything they touch will turn to ash, reduced to nothing but dirt and dust to fly away like the remains of a decaying tree, and already she knows that the shabby roots which held the foundations of their _(small, tiny and barely there_) friendship (_can she even call it that?)_ is gone and maybe forever and that thought alone terrifies her but right now she can't handle all of it all at once; her shoulders might crack under the weight of them.

"I had my reasons, Sakura." his voice is carried to her ears, low and brash and sharp like needle.

She scoffs at his answer, folding her arms on her torso as she says," Reasons? What reasons? You and I both know there weren't any."

There's a little moisture there, right by the corners of her eyes and its burning her, threatening to spill and destroy her momentum. She tries to hold them, willing them to seep back so he doesn't see her weakness.

He sighs, threads a hand through his hair and for the first time in her life, she realizes how tired and drained he looks: there are subtle shadows under his eyes and the hollow of his cheeks are painfully visible against his alabaster skin, making him seem ten years older.

"You won't understand," he murmurs softly, making her choke on the sob that's ready to surface.

She sucks in a big breath, fills her lungs with the much needed oxygen and dabs her lashes with the tips of her fingertips.

"Too bad then," her soft whisper is lost in the large room with its mahogany desks and big windows and she sinks deeper within herself.

Grabbing her bag, she walks down the aisle, passing him and his over looming presence over her. She doesn't say a word to her teacher who doesn't ask her stay and blatantly ignores the curious onlookers who are whispering behind her back. Entering the freshly washed school grounds, she lets the sunlight kiss her skin and warm her heart.

It takes a while for her tears to stop flowing.

.

.

.

_Six_

"Will you go out with me?"

The whole cafeteria seems to have suddenly gone silent. Coffees stopped at mid-sips, mouths left hanging agape and vaguely, she wonders if those were crickets she just heard moments ago.

Not being a fan of incessant mumbling, she diverts her eyes while the wheels behind her eyes move like a well coordinated clock. Ino's standing by the lunch line, staring in her direction with a somewhat smug look and she moves her gaze again, hoping some of the embarrassment would seep into her form again but, surprisingly, she feels as blank as a board.

Her eye catches a pair of angry onyx ones and suddenly, she feels herself sucked into the shear depth of them. His gaze leaves her feeling strangely electrified, making her fingers twitch in anticipation and she's left feeling cold and bare inside when she sees him get up and leave.

Her peers decide to focus on his departure and a small part of her, however minute, is thankful for the tiny distraction. The cafeteria door slams after him and whispers slide over the atmosphere of the hall.

She thinks it's hilarious, pathetic even, how humans tend to enjoy others misery just to will their useless time and lives away.

Naruto stares at her from across the hall with something akin to concern and slight anger in his gaze, like as if he was already disappointed in what her answer would be, before he too leaves, following after his best friend. The fleeting judgment she sees in his eyes is enough to almost make her curl her lips and sneer in his direction because _who is he to be a hypocrite?_

So just to spite him and everyone else and especially Sasuke, she faces Kiba, her mega-watt answering smile bright enough to light up all of Konoha with plenty of electricity to spare.

"I would love to."

And she holds her head up high, a big grin plastered on her face while she knows she's empty on the inside.

.

.

.

_Seven_

She mentally decides on the fact that her (_fleeting, momentary but oh so strong) _feelings for Sasuke should be blamed on the fact that she had felt bad for what had happened to him and that she had tried to understand and adapt to his changing behavior as best as she could and when he had pushed her out, it had flared nothing but stubbornness on her part to wriggle herself inside his life again.

It had nothing to do with the fact that she had ached for him when he ignored.

It had nothing to do with the fact that even from a tender age, she had made up her mind that she would always help, even if he never asked for it.

It had nothing to do with the fact that when she had seen him so broken and torn and_ lost,_ she had wanted nothing more than to hold him in her arms and shield him from the world.

Nope. Na-da.

So why did she feel her skin crawl every time his eyes would land on her from the other side of the room as he chugged down another hefty serving of alcohol.

Even with the teaming horde of grinding college students between them and the noise and the laughter and the ear-shattering music, his eyes would find her and strip her bare and it makes her queasy and unsure and a bit conscious as to how easy he can hold her frozen just by looking at her.

His eyes are empty, though; just two sharp orbs filled with sheer nothing. Endless.

It doesn't help that Kiba is completely shit-faced, hanging over her shoulder and howling in laughter as he drowns in his own drinks. And she's standing there next to him, nothing short of a trophy-girlfriend, smiling her _fake fake_ smile and pretending to be exhilarated when he pulls her against himself and shoves his tongue down his throat. Everyone believes her, everyone except maybe _him._

She knows that Ino knows that her relationship with Kiba is just- she doesn't know what could explain their relationship. It was almost like an business deal, with no feelings involved, a living rumor which they continue to feed. She doesn't care that he sleeps with other girls behind her back because she's numb about it. About them, together.

But Sasuke doesn't need to know that. So why does he? _How_ does he?

Because no-one, especially _him,_ should look so damn smug when she leans away from Kiba and walks away with the excuse of getting herself a drink.

His eyes follow her though, all knowing and conceited and arrogant, and the weight of his mocking stare makes her suffocates. She's practically hyperventilating by the time she pushes her way through the crowd and stumbles out to the neatly trimmed lawn, her breath clogged in her throat, heart in her ears and her chest aches harshly when she pants and struggles to catch her bearings again. Her mind scoffs at her too, making her remember everything she wants to forget and she cries out, whether from frustration and anger or irritation, she doesn't know. Probably all three.

Every bubble has its right to pop, no?

Ignoring the people who are too busy tearing each others' clothes to even notice her, she stuffs her hands in her black jacket and lights a cigarette, feeling too damn annoyed and stuffed up to care about the consequences of anyone seeing her smoking her life away. Who's there to care anyway? Ino, who deserted her the moment Shikamaru entered the building or Hinata, who's too busy ogling at a drunk Naruto to notice the world around her? Or-she adds just to spite herself-Sasuke, who's probably already half-way through with his conquest for the night. He's been with more than half of the female population of the institute, maybe even of the whole city, so what gives him the right to glare at her when she's kissing Kiba when he has been nothing short of a-a _guy_ for the past two years, hopping his way from one girl to the other. She tells herself that the sharp tug she feels there, smack in the middle of her chest, is not jealousy every time she hears the tail end whisper of who he was with last night and she knows she shouldn't because they trampled on their weird relationship (_can she even call it that?)_ together all through high school and burned it down to ashes when she agreed to go out with Kiba. It a silent _snap,_ non-verbal but loud and _there _and she regrets nothing because _who like walking on eggshell all the times anyway_.

So she sits down on the grass and lets the blades tickle her bare feet and just thinks.

She thinks about her parents, she thinks about Tsunade, hell she even busies her mind with ideas for her new design for project, but nothing works because even now, with a solid brick wall to separate them, she can still see his eyes behind her lids each time she blinks, so bitter and angry and lonely _andandand_-

"Well, _damn_," her breath floats in front of her face as white mist, mingling with the grey pungent smoke of her cancer stick and she stares at its red end, watches the tiny smoldering flecks of fire fall to the ground and burn the blades, one by one, slowly, tearing them from the inside.

_Just like us._

She stubs the butt of the cigarette into the ground and hauls herself up, fully intending to go in there and tell Ino that she can't stand the putrid sight of so many shameless people under one roof but the sight of her_ boyfriend _making out with some slut (what was her name again? Ame? Ami?) in one of the upstairs bedroom brings out nothing but a raised eyebrow on her end. Even when they break apart and Kiba's eyes widen at her standing there while the girl smiles at her with a conceited pull of her bloody lips, she feels nothing. Not even a pinch, of anger or hurt or betrayal.

But since she's Haruno Sakura, the girl who walks with her chin held high even when the ground is being pulled from beneath her, she says, in a matter-of-fact tone, "I always thought you had better taste than this, Kiba."

She spares a glance to the shell-shocked and more than insulted girl under him and turns around and is about to open the next door when Kiba pulls her back and cages her between the wall and himself and blurts out a pathetic," This isn't what it looks like."

She scoffs at him this time, her annoyance building because now she just wants to go back to her dorm and maybe take a warm shower and hit the covers but when she moves to leave, he pulls her back.

"I don't care who you sleep with Kiba. Now _let me go_," she hisses out the last part when he refuses to budge and her anger simply sky-rockets off the roof.

"Kiba,_ move_!"

And this is how Sasuke finds them-him, drunk and practically suffocating her against the wall and her hissing like a soaked kitten under him. She glances at him from the corner of her eyes and pushes against Kiba's bare chest again but it's useless because now he's too busy glaring at Sasuke who has his eyes dead set on him with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. The level of testosterone that suddenly fills up the air like oxygen makes her want to roll her eyes-men and their stupid egos.

"Kiba, I swear I a-"

"Let her go, Inazuka," Sasuke's tone is solid, _glacial_ when he speaks and the undertone of malice makes her seize her wriggling and she snaps her face to see him fully and now she's confused because _why is he so angry_?

"She's_ my _girl, Uchiha. Stay out of it," the boy on top of her growls out, and she takes the momentary lapse in his concentration off of her to escape from under his arms. She doesn't need to look back to see the look on his face, not when she can practically smell his surprise and maybe even the wounded look in his eyes. But she knows that it doesn't affects her so she just walks away, towards the landing and this time when he puts his hand on her shoulder, she lets anger and annoyance rule her judgment and punches him, right across the cheek, the force behind it enough to knock him out cold.

_High school drama delivered a few years too late._

She rolls her eyes when that other girl rushes out with only his shirt over herself and crowds around him. Glaring at a some-what amused Sasuke, she bites out the next words with as much venom as she possibly can.

"_Stay away from me_, Uchiha."

Because he still looks way too smug for her liking.

.

.

.

_Eight_

She wakes to the incessant beeping that seems to echo in her cranium and peeks at the ceiling. The soft glow of the moonlight from behind the blinds engulfs the room in a halo glow and she sighs when she feels warm fingers tighten slowly around hers.

"Sasuke I-"

"It's my fault. I know."

She runs her tongue over her busted lip and pushes her weight over her elbows. Sasuke stares at her from across the room, dark eyes tormented and anguished. The shadows play over his features, making him look every bit of the regal man he has grown to become.

Beside her, Ino hums in her sleep, arms propped by the side of the hospital bed, one hand clasped loyally with hers, face hidden behind soft blonde tresses.

"No," she says after a while, quite matter of fact, "it's not."

"Saku-"

"And I know it. So you should too."

He fists his hands, nails digging painfully into alabaster skin, leaving crescent marks in their wake. He's the first one to look away.

She traces the shape of his face with her eyes; the deep v that's settled between his brows, the sharpness of his jaw line, the stress lines on his forehead, the dark circles under his eyes. He looks like as if he hasn't slept in days.

"How long have you been here?"

He looks at her. She blinks back in realization.

"Oh," her voice is overlapped out by the gentle lull of the air conditioner. She tries again, louder this time. "I'm sorry Sasuke, I didn't know-no one told me and-"

He walks over to her and sits on the vacant chair on the other side of her bed and presses her hand between his own. "I know."

The clock ticks overhead. She closes her eyes and feels the coolness of his skin against hers.

"Wha-what did he say?"

She swallows painfully and blinks back the tears that prickle the ends of her lashes. Sasuke takes in a shuddering breath beside her and blows it on their enjoined digits.

"He said that this- this was just a warning," she averts her eyes when she feels his breath hitch in his throat at the implication of her message. "Next time it could be- _will be_ worse."

"That _fucking bastard_," he bites out. Their hushed whispers fall into silence.

He extracts himself slowly and releases her hand and places it delicately under the covers. She bites back a sob and seals her eyes shut tightly when he kisses the top of her head.

"I'm sorry."

She gives him a watery smile.

"What for, Sasuke?"

She sees him stand by the open door, memorizes everything that has ever made him Sasuke- _theboywhoshefellinlovewithallthoseyearsagoandneverquitefelloutoflovewith_- and the changes the years had brought on him. On them. Because they- her and him- they were not like the others to begin with. Sakura and Sasuke, Sasuke and Sakura- star crossed lovers, Ino had called them. She thinks she's beginning to believe that.

She purses her lips when he walks out the door and, probably, out of her life. For good this time.

Moisture tickles her fingertips. Ino shuffles her position and tugs on her hand. She lets the tears fall.

.

.

.

_Nine_

She dreams of parades in her sleep. The streets are crowded with people she knows. Children run by her feet, making their way through the throngs of teenagers and adults alike- one trips by her side and she helps her up. Her own face smiles up at her, green eyes naïve and filled with childish wonder. Behind them, she hears Sasuke scream.

A man with red eyes stares at her from across the asphalt and as soon as she locks eyes with him, everything changes. The world tilts, splashed with hues of crimson, and there's so much blood- on her hands, on her clothes, on her face. She hears gunshots, sees bodies fall, but what clenches her gut is the sight of a small boy on his knees, staring at the grey sky with empty eyes and tear strained cheeks.

She always jolts awake after that.

Sometimes she keeps herself awake, just to keep the nightmares at bay. They still haunt her though, even after so many years.

Her doctor says she must let go of her past to move onto the future. She just doesn't know how to do that anymore.

Especially since Naruto arrives on her doorsteps one December morning with a bleeding Sasuke in his arms. Her heart stops for that one moment when she thinks of the worst.

And for a tiny second, she's sucked inside her nightmares, with blood splashed all over her clothes and dried on her fingertips and suddenly it's so hard to breathe.

"I didn't know where else to go." He brings him in and she leads them to the couch and hides her trembling fingers and closes her eyes because _how much more can one person bleed without dying_.

"Fix him; you're the only one who can." Ocean eyes probe at her with desperation. She shakes her head and ignores the urge to scream.

"I-I can't. He needs a hospital, and a trained medical staff, and a good doctor and-" she knows her rambling is costing them precious seconds but she's too far gone in her own fears to help him because how can she possibly fix someone else when she can't even fix herself.

"Sakura, please."

"For God's sake Naruto, he's been shot!"

Leaving him in the living room, she grabs at the phone lying at her coffee table and calls the one person she knows will be more help than her. Her fingers fumble over the keys and they slip and tears of frustration leak over her face and when she's done, she grabs the little supplies she has scattered over the apartment and ignores Naruto's bloodshot eyes as they follow her. She's still lost and scared and a bit frantic and itching to clean all the blood but at least she's doing something to help and not lying around, useless and helpless as ever as the most important person in her life fought to survive, again.

No medical textbook in the world could have prepared her for what happens next.

The doorbell goes unheard by her ears because she's too busy trying to stop the bleeding and when Tsunade pushes her aside to make room for herself, she allows herself one moment of absolute weakness and looks at her mentor and prays the she hasn't messed up even more.

"We'll bring him back to his feet again," Shizune squeezes her shoulder and she screws her eyes shut to stop the tears from escaping and marring her cheeks. "I promise."

Dragging her sleeves over her eyes, she rubs till her face is raw and her cheeks red. And her hands still tremble and she's still terrified but she's determined because this time she's not going to sit in the sidelines and watch him slip past her fingers and into this endless abyss. This time she'll patch him up good.

.

.

.

_Ten_

"You're leaving?"

Sasuke doesn't spare her a glance as he moves past her, his stride strong, but she's a trained doctor, and she can see how much it hurts him to put one foot after the next. His jaw hardens at her voice, muscles taut, and she feels tired all of a sudden, of his random mood swings and decisions. It still hurts- of course it does- but…

She wants him to be in peace again.

It's impossible, she knows, because how can she expect that of someone who went through so much, but she's tired of seeing him think like as if he's all alone, one soldier against the whole wide world. So she leans against the door frame and just stares at his back till he pushes himself out her door, with a flimsy jacket over his shoulders and cast on his arm.

She sighs. "At least take an umbrella," her voice mumbles over the living room, and he stops all of a sudden, like as if he has a point to make.

"Naruto made a mistake bringing me here," his voice, always so low and gruff, weighs as heavy as lead, and suddenly she's angry again, and her fingers twitch with the uncontrollable urge to throw a near lying vase at his head because_ how can he fucking say that?_

"You wanted him to let you_ die_?" the words spit out of her mouth, lips parted to scream at him- him and his stupidity.

"_YES!_"

His response is like a hammer blow to her soul. And it scares her, how he can casually talk about something like that.

He's angry too, with his onyx eyes narrowed to a glare at her and his mouth pulled down to a thin line, dangling somewhere between glower and a grimace, and the space between them feels so small all of a sudden as the tension poisons the air. Veins prodding on his neck, he looks like an angry deity, ready to unravel his wrath, and it should have scared her, but she's Sakura Haruno and she's been dealing with his problems for years now and it's practically made her immune.

They're fire and gasoline, the thought randomly flashes in her mind, ready to breathe their toxins into one another and live the damage. But she loves him, and it makes her weak and vulnerable when he talks about his life like that, and she loves how his eyes just soften when he sees her eyes watering up.

"Why," her voice bubbles, moist lips trembling, "Why would you say that?"

Looking back, she thinks of the days when they were seven and sun was bright on their backs as they ran through the forest. They had always protected her, him and Naruto, from everything, and it kills her to see that she can't even protect him from _himself._

He leaves without the umbrella anyway, the door clicking softly in his wake, and she stumbles into the shower, wondering what she would tell Naruto when he comes to visit.

.

.

.

_Eleven_

She spends her week off from the hospital with the girls in New York, crunching over snow with her high heels and a credit card to burn. They celebrate her birthday in a club and she's so drunk, flailing around with in her pretty little black dress and she thinks she sees (_black, oh so black_) eyes somewhere in the crowd and it sparks a memory deeply lodged in her mind but their drinks are here and she's pushed back into the music and drowning in sin and when Ino pulls her back onto the dance floor, she sways till her feet hurt and there are tremors in her leg. But she feels light, and she loves it, how her smiles seem so easy and the laughter not forced.

Her eyes sparkle in the dark, neon lights flashing over her and she looks around her and somehow she's lost, moving with the crowd, with no moonlight to guide her in the alcohol induced stupor. It elects a deep bubbling laughter from her throat, and she's doubling, and Ino suddenly there, hanging on her shoulder blade, her incoherent giggles tickling her ears and Sakura feels exhilarated.

There. Beyond the crowd, she hears someone like-like Naruto, his laughter booming over the music, and she pulls Ino's face close to her own and screams, "Naruto's here."

Ino blinks at her, and slowly a grin pulls on her face and she's laughing again. "Naruto's where?"

She laughs with her even though it's not remotely funny _but it is._

_God, we're shitfaced._

Lacing their finger together, she pulls herself and her best friend through the colliding mass of human bodies and squeals in delight when she sees her blond brother.

"_Naruto!" _

Those six months away have done him good. There was no trace of restlessness on his face, and his eyes look as bright as the clear sky, and it makes her happy, how someone can change so much and yet remain the same.

He grins right back at her, lips stretching from ear to ear, and when she jumps in his arms, he's ready to catch her. His associates are looking at them now, amused, but she ignores them and messes his mop of yellow spikes.

"Happy birthday," his voice ruffles your hair, and she sobers up a bit.

"You remembered," she feels shy all of a sudden, eyes focused on his crisp white shirt, but when he produces a little box with a green bow from one of his pockets, her excitement slams back. She loves presents.

Holding it in her hand, she inspects the sides with avid curiosity and peels off the pink wrapping paper gently. Inside, a golden pendant in the shape of the sun rests on the black velvet, an array of swirling lines carved as its rays. It has a fairytale touch to it, complete with the intricate Greek-like face on the front and an elaborate design of wines and lilies on the back surface. The chain is thin, with metal carved in as hooks linked with each other, and she squeals at the sight of it. He helps it on, securing it behind her neck as she pushes her curled tangle of pink hair to the side, and when it rests on her skin, she loves the chill that spreads through her bones.

"It's beautiful."

Ino inspects her gift with awe, fingers tracing over the ridges and the design, and when their eyes meet, they both break down to a random fit of laughter.

"Shit, that's gorgeous," Ino wipes a tear from her lid, baby blue eyes wide and electrified.

She hugs Naruto one more time, her nose lodged in his shoulder and she breathes in the mix of pepper and musk and it makes her smile because in his arms, she feels like she's home. Moving back into the dance floor, she looks back at him, at the cerulean eyes and tan skin and his booming laughter as he talks to his associates, and it makes to smile to see that at least one of them managed to really move on with life.

But then Ino wounds her arms around her neck and she laughs, closing herself off from the past and the future. And it works too. She's so content with just moving with the music that holds her body spellbound, until someone spins her around and crashes their mouth with hers. Instantly, she's pulled into something she can't describe, but there's fire in her mouth and her waist where a strong hand holds itself steady, fingers skimming over her bare skin; it felt like as if someone is _branding_ her, and she's caged, inside and out. But it isn't enough to stop her from fisting her hands into the (_soft, spiky, midnight black_) hair that slightly curl at the nape.

_Sasuke._

She hums with the voice that whispers in her head, and when his fingers trace along her jaw, she melts.

When they part, her mind feels sluggish and slow. Her hands grasp at thin air, and she looks up, scared and afraid, eyes frenetic, and she sees him, tall, dark and brooding, in his Armani suit and arrogance to boot. She's so stunned she forgets to breathe.

He has the gall to smirk at her, a conceited twist of the lips, but she blinks as he's gone. She looks around her, but the flashing lights make everything feel too slow and _it's not fucking enough!_

She's chasing a mirage, she knows, and it's possible that all the alcohol has finally gotten to her head, but she knows- He's _here_, and she's wants to see him again, all the dark contours of his face and the sharp edges and piercing eyes. It's insane and psychotic but she's spent so long running after a memory that she's lost her mind after seeing the real deal.

The crowd pulses with the raw, enigmatic energy, thumping with the ear-blasting music, pushing her in every direction but the one she wants. She scans her surroundings, desperate eyes searching for a tall, broad mop of midnight hair under the flashing neon lights, but it's useless because it's so dark and she's lost again in the midst of the crazy dreams and nostalgia.

The cold wind bites at her exposed back when she moves out the entrance, making goose bumps rise on her bare arms but she forgets about everything when her eyes finally find him.

He's here.

Moving into the back seat of a shiny black limo, he looks back her, just this once, and she feels like she did all those years ago when she met his eyes in the cafeteria with Kiba in front of her, asking her out; those eyes are still as dark as they had been then, endless. Abysmal. She's drowning in the memories they elict.

"Sasu-"

A loud boom settles in her chest and its instant chaos. Something's lodged in the juncture between her neck and shoulder, and it weighs her down. His eyes widen, like as if he's seen a ghost, and Sasuke's running for her now. She stumbles back, barely notices when her knees give way and her head makes a loud impact with the pavement. The chauffer who was holding the door for him pulls out a gun, and-

_Gunshots. _

They rein over the silence, piercing through the night, and there's something wrong, with the way everyone is running. Feet slap over the concrete, sloppy, haphazard.

Someone holds her up. She feels the burn extend to her fingertip, and it scalds her to her core. Her neck is killing her.

_Stay with me._

Something wet dribbles down her arm, soaking her dress and fingers. She has an inkling she knows what it is.

_Open your eyes Sakura._

The world tilts beyond the comfort of the darkness that threatens to consume her and everything seems so drenched in red and black and blue and every shade in between that it's nauseating. The heat travels up to her eyes till she feels like as if her corneas are burning, and it makes tears fall down her cheeks.

But despite all the riot and the whirlwind of panic and terror that sweeps the area, she realizes she's never seen the sky so clearly till now. And despite the blood that's choking her lungs and leaving her wound, she knows she shouldn't be restless to know her time is over.

Gathering all the strength she can muster, she looks up at him, at the midnight hair that covers his forehead and the raven eyes and feels his hold tighten around her. He's shouting at someone to _fucking call the ambulance already _and maybe it's the blood loss or her own insanity that makes her lips curve at the ends for one last time. And maybe it's meant to be like this, she thinks; her departure might be a tad bit earlier than they had planned, but she knows she can count on Naruto to prevent him from venturing too deep into his self-destruction again. She looks at him and she thinks she's ready. She almost is.

Ino screams from the entrance as Naruto holds her back. On the edge of the pavement lies her pendant, its golden exterior dented, the face of the sun smiling no more. Face up, under the outer gold cover, behind her splatter of blood on the transparent glass, is a picture of them taken when the three of them had first met, grinning into the face of the camera, wearing the daisy crowns she had made. That, she thinks, closing her eyes, was the era of bliss before the never ending storm started.

_Please, don't leave me._

_._

_._

_._

_Twelve_

He stands under the concrete ledge, watching the smoke curl in front of him. Rain continues to pour down around him, torrents of winds blowing into the trees that line the street, and when he pull the cigarette out of his mouth, its red end glimmers in the grey atmosphere. Stubbing it under his shoes, he pushes his hands into his pockets, and looks at the sky.

Five seconds later, a hooded man emerges from across the street. He watches the exchange from behind the shadows, and when it's done, he signals for a cab.

Moving into his study, he's pleased to see the people that are gathered there.

Shikamaru waves the manila folder in the air. It does nothing to break the tension in the room, but Suigetsu smirks anyway, his pointed teeth sharp and lethal.

"Let's get that snake bastard."

Neji rolls his eyes, but he can see his anticipation by the way he folds his arms on his torso. Naruto squeezes past his shoulder and out the mahogany door, leading the others. There's a scorned smile on his face, and it makes Sasuke smirk.

He's surrounded by blood-thirsty psychopaths, but he's no one to judge.

Closing the door to his study, he's the last one to leave, and when he moves out from under the foyer, he barely notices the rain that hits his shoulders. Kakashi gives them one last look from his position against his car, and maybe it's the steely determination he sees or his own rage at having his niece leave the hospital with a bullet wound that out rules his usual clear-headedness, but Sasuke knows: everyone here with him has a score to settle. Him and Kakashi and Naruto the most, probably.

His gun feels icy in its holster. He silently wonders if Sakura still likes his mother's wedding ring.

Guess he'll have to find out when he comes back.

* * *

Yup. I've officially lost it after the last manga chapter.

OMGEEEEE IT'S FINALLY HAPPENEING!

Ahem. Yes, as I was saying,

Like and review please.


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